Now You See Me
by Es.herondale
Summary: Clary, an aspiring young student who dreams of becoming an artist, is attending the Academy of Arts. Jace is your not so average cocky jock with a dark little secret. When Jace returns to the Academy of Arts to finish his second year in the Instrumental wing and to capture a young girl, their lives will do more than just collide.
1. Chapter 1: Coffee Catastrophe

**Chapter 1: Coffee Catastrophe**

Stepping in front the bitter cold, Clary entered into the frosty January day. She wore her favorite scarf with small specks of gold, a thick pale winter coat, a pair of gray velvet suede boots that boosted her height, and a pair of paint splattered gloves. Clary couldn't wait to get back to the academy; a semester of art would await her. She made her way across the street and stepped into a quiet coffee shop.

The bells jingled, signaling the entering of a new customer. Jace glanced up from his Playboy magazine and sighed. _So much for starting the day off fresh_ , he conveniently stuck the magazine under the cabinet, crinkling it in the process. He couldn't wait to get back to Idris after finishing his vacuous assignment.

When Clary stepped into her usual cafe, she hadn't expected a Calvin Klein underwears model. His wild blonde hair flew in all directions as he brushed his hand through it. She felt tempted to pet it, to smooth it down. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes traveled downwards. His eyes bored into her, gold and all. _He's a rapist,_ was Clary's first immediate thought. _No way in hell does someone have that many tattoos._ Sure enough, littering the young man's arms, neck and hands were tattoos that made absolutely no sense to Clary. They seemed to be symbols. His sharp jaw line and perfect upturned nose made Clary's hands itched. She felt an urge to draw him. To paint him and all his glory.

"Hello, my name is Jace," Jace said in a monotonous, yet seductive tone. "How may I help you today?"

 _Damn,_ Clary thought. _Even his voice is hot._

"I would like a black coffee," Clary answered. "No sugar, no cream."

"Your name please?" Jace pressed a few buttons on his screen and yawned.

"Clary." She replied. "Clary Fray."

At the mention of this name, Jace's eyebrows flew up. Didn't Hodge say something about a Clary? Clary Fairchild? He shook his head; he must be tricking himself, he wouldn't remember something this specific. He was way too ignorant to remember something like that. Especially a useless name like that.

"Alright Clary," Jace stated. "Please wait a few minutes as I prepare your drink for you."

The machine whirled, shook and spewed out dark coffee. The rich brown color filled the paper cup.

"Your total will be $3.25," Jace announced as he handed her the cup. As Clary searched her wallet for change, her hands accidently knocked over the coffee, spilling it over the counter and onto the floor. Jace scowled. This girl had just ruined his perfectly good Playboy magazine. Not to mention the fact that the magazine held many images that aroused Jace very much. He hustled into the storage closet and took out a stringy mop. The scowl didn't leave his face as he mopped up the mess that the customer had created. As he glanced by up, he caught sight of the Clary girl furiously wiping at her eyes. He immediately felt bad. His Playboy magazine could wait. He returned to making her a second cup of coffee.

"Nice tattoos," Clary said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Jace was so startled at her comment that he dropped the cup of coffee, resulting in another failed attempt to prepare his customer her coffee.

"I'm _so_ sorry!" Clary managed to squeak. "Did I say something wrong?"

"You.." Jace said incredulously. "You can... _see my marks_?"

His voice raised an octave by the time he finished his sentence. He didn't keep the panic out of his voice as his eyes searched the shop. He sent a silent thank you to Raziel for the empty cafe.

"Marks?" Clary asked, confused. "What marks? I said I liked your tattoos."

 _Stupid mundanes,_ Jace thought briefly. _Always assuming things._

"Oh," he deadpanned. "Right, my _tattoos._ Why thank you."

"No problem," her last response put them back into an intolerable silence. Jace continued stirring the third and hopefully the last cup of coffee. He handed it to her, accepted the cash, and waved goodbye.

Clary managed a thank you and left, scurrying out the coffee shop mumbling about being late. He watched as her fiery red hair flew with the wind.

Jace gave a slight shrug at her retreating figure. He glanced at the clock wondering when he would be able to leave this hellhole. One customer and he was already tired.

After twenty minutes or so, Meliorn had taken over the shift. Jace ran about, gathering his belongings and throwing his bomber jacket on. Just as he's about to leave, Meliorn calls out to him.  
"Hey, Jace?" He called. "What's this?"

He held up a soggy and stained Playboy magazine and Jace grimaced.

"Oh…" He started. "You see…." Meliorn raised an eyebrow. Jace hurried out the door.

* * *

Clary sprinted to her class with a burning cup of coffee in her hand. Her floral messenger bag banged against her thighs as she ran through the busy Manhattan streets.

Huffing, she ran up the steps of the academy and strolled into an art studio. The majority of the students had arrived, each working on a piece of art. Clary walked towards one corner of the colossal classroom and joined her friend Simon Lewis who was focused on a charcoal drawing. She dropped her messenger bag onto the painted covered floors and left to retrieve her unfinished drawing. On her way back, she grabbed a charcoal art kit essential for the drawing. In it contained light wash graphite, medium wash graphite, white charcoals of different sizes, compressed charcoals, and much more.

Clary returned to her station beside Simon and began filling in her drawing. Her hand moved effortlessly and flew on the paper. The vine shaped charcoal danced along the painting under her control. Clary was in her own world; no one could pull her away from her art.

That was until someone tapped her on the shoulder. Clary jumped, making the charcoal fly upwards, creating a thin streak of black across her artwork.

"SIMON FRIGGING LEWIS!" Clary shut her eyes, not believing what actually happened. Knowing that her soft voice and small figure would not scare Simon, kept her eyes closed. "Look at what you did!" Only then did she notice what she drew, but ignored it for the tie being.

"Sorry?" A familiar yet mysterious voice replied. Where had she heard this before?

"You're not Simon," Clary drawled, panicking. Where had she heard this voice?  
"No shit Sherlock." The guy chuckled. "You can open your eyes you know."

Clary opened her eyes and snapped them shut just as quick.

 _No no no,_ she screamed internally. _Please. Not him. Anyone BUT him._

"I see you can't resist my charms," he stated smugly. "Too hot for you?"

She opened her eyes, coming face to a male chest. A v _ery_ defined chest. Her eyes face this mysterious man's face and found his eyes, golden and enchanting, boring into her very soul.

* * *

Jace was exceptionally surprised by the fact that the little girl had spotted his marks. After he had left the coffee shop, he had slipped into a dark alley and pulled out his witchlight and stele. He ran the stele over the rune of rune invisibility. He really needed to pay more attention during How to Survive in the Mundane World lessons. As he traced the rune, he frowned. The runes were already covered with a sheet of invisibility.

 _She must have the sight,_ Jace thought. _Oh well. Sucks to be her._

He threw his dark, gothic backpack over his shoulders and ran. As he ran down the cracked and uneven sidewalks of Manhattan, he glanced at his heat-sensitive watch.

8:18, it read. However, checking the time wasn't the only reason he looked at it. The changing colors of the watch gave him an idea of the demons' whereabouts, although there was a downside. If the demons were shape shifters, they would be impossible to track. Jace was, however, extremely thankful for the invention of this heat-sensitive watch. He couldn't bear having to draw on his heat-sensitive rune repeatedly. As he walked, his watch beeped and flashed a vibrant red.

 _Damn it,_ Jace thought crossly. _I can't fucking get to class without a single goddamn problem. Especially the frigging class he's currently flunking._

He slid into an alley yet again and pulled his sleeve up. He ran his stele along a small area above his wrist, allowing a compass to appear. A tracking rune was what it was called. He then proceeded to hover his stele above a large piece of his skin near his elbows. The runes blazed and slowly became visible. Jace winced slightly at the sting. As he watched both the strength rune and the heightened speed rune appear, he smirked slightly.

 _Watch out y'all bloody idiots,_ he mused. _This is for interrupting my day._

He burst into a nearby brothel, ready to fight an entire army of demons. Grimacing at the heavy smell of alcohol and beer, he allowed the tracking rune to lead him to the first demon. He circled the brothel multiple times without success. However, on his 3rd time around, his watch gave out, giving a slight shudder and blanking out. Without his watch, his compass rune abruptly stopped, signaling the end of the search. He tailed around for a few for minutes annoyed at the sudden stop.

 _God DAMN this watch,_ Jace thought as he mumbled a few colorful words that would _definitely_ make an Angel blush and sneaked back outside. However, on his way to the double doors, he was abruptly pushed up against a stained dark wall. The back of his head made a cracking sound at the impact. Wincing, he tried to wrench free, only to be choked. Kicking his legs back, he flipped the mysterious figure and both landed on the ground breathing heavily. Keeping the figure pinned on the ground, Jace raised himself.

 _Sebastian,_ Jace thought. The name brought a bitter taste to Jace's mouth. _What the hell does he want now?_

This work of "art" was _definitely_ Sebastian's work. The veins of this demon bulged out, creating an intimidating look. His once pale and flawless skin now resembles a sickly gray. Peeling, cracked, and bubbling with acne.

Grabbing a dagger that was concealed, Jace shifted his position.

"Erela!" Jace whispered as the dagger glowed a luminous gold. It quivered in his hands, waiting to be set free. Waiting to plunge into the victim's non-beating heart.

Taking a deep breath, Jace set the dagger free, only to result in a disappointing surprise. The demon had disappeared right into the thin air, becoming one with the mist and wind.

 _Ugh,_ Jace growled and shoved men aside. Maryse was _definitely not_ going to be excited about this. With this new breed of demons, it would be completely impossible to kill. Jace was deep in thought as he stepped into the daylight. Then for the hundredth time that day, he quietly slipped into an alley to inspect the damage this idiotic yet swift demon caused on his beautifully tan complexion. He glared at nothing in particular as he caught sight of a tear in his skin. Blood began gathering at the tear and Jace groaned.

He quickly pulled out his stele and drew on an iratze rune for speedy healing.

He pulled out his phone and glanced at the time.

 _Look who's going to be late,_ he walked out of the alleyway and made his way to the Academy of Art.


	2. Chapter 2: Timid Temptations

**Hello, Lovelies! We're back at it again with another chapter!**

 **Thank you too all who viewed, favorited, followed, and reviewed! Thank you so much!**

 **\- E.S. 3**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Timid Temptations**

Frustrated, Clary ripped her sketch into shreds. After another unsuccessful attempt to brainstorm contemporary piece of artwork, she decided that maybe it was too much to handle, especially in one day.

 _Who the hell does he think he is anyways?_ She thought crossly as she threw the now ripped pieces of paper into the waste basket, creating a monumental mountain of trash. _Why do bad things always happen to good people?_

Okay. Maybe she hadn't been very good in the past few months…but Jesus Christ. Did he know how long she had spent on measuring all the angles, how much effort she spent into drawing that pair of eyes? No, he didn't.

"Someone's pissed," Simon wolf whistled as he stepped through her painted door. He skillfully maneuvered his way through the immense piles of clothing and trash. Carrying a cup of hot chocolate in his hand, he sat down by her bed, his weight denting the silky bed sheet that had adorned her bed. He pushed the canopy drapes off to the side. "So tell what I missed today."

"Where were you anyway?" Clary questioned as she slowly sipped her hot chocolate.

"Ditched it," he replied simply and proceeded to hand her a homemade chocolate frosted doughnut from Dazzling Donuts. "Went out with a girl instead. But….where were _you_?"

"Getting pissed off by a fucking retard while you were at God knows where eating some fancy ass food at a restaurant," Clary huffed as she bit into the creamy doughnut. She was secretly satisfied at Simon's interest in her day. However, there was an unsettling feeling in her chest that she pushed away. Putting on a smile, she continued. "But….that's not as important as your _date_. So tell me, what happened? Did you kiss her? Oh. My. God. You did, didn't you? You're blushing. Holy CRAP! Fill me in."

"You're like a melodramatic fangirl," Simon noted. "Anyway, this is basically what happened. So I was with Camille. Yeah, that extra awkward girl who wore her hair in braids when she was in middle school? I kinda had a thing for her, and I asked her out, just testing my luck. So, when she said yes, I took her to this diner and yeah."

"Continue…" Clary slurped on her drink, ignoring her aching heart.

"Nothing happened," Simon concluded. "We talked. The end."

Raising a single eyebrow, Clary huffed. "You expect me to believe that?" She gave an unladylike snort and motioned for him to continue.

"No really that's it," Simon stated, fumbling with his hands. "Tell me what happened today. What did _I_ miss?"

At this, Clary began an elaborate story of the mysterious boy who had pissed her off unconditionally. Cursing multiple times throughout the story, she watched Simon's reaction. He had paled slightly when she mentioned the young man's exotic tattoos. Clary watched as he chewed his lip, wondering why he was so fidgety today.

 _Must be the caffeine,_ she brushed it off casually.

* * *

Jace swirled his toothpick around in his mouth as he entered the dark, yet remarkably loud bar. It was an ocean of bodies pressed together, moving feverishly. Desperately. Jace made his way through the pool of people and retreated towards the back of the bar.

"You do have great taste in where we meet," Jace joked as he reached to hug the warlock who was intentionally covered from head to toe in multicolored body glitter. "Where's Alec?"

"Alec," the warlock drawled, amused. "He must be running late. Silly boy."

"So Magnus," Jace states as he waves to a bartender nearby. His golden eyes raked over her body, drinking in every part. Her plunging neckline and tight skirt aroused him as he ordered him and Magnus Bloody Marys.

Rushing in a few moments later was Alec, covered in a layer of dirt and grime. His startlingly blue eyes searched around, finally landing on Magnus's glowing cat-like ones. He gave Magnus a timid smile and wandered casually towards the back, careful not to raise suspicion. His shredded leather jacket had already caused people to stare, gawk, and even flinch as he went by. The red scratch resting on his cheek was already healing and not quite as noticeable.

Reaching the bar, Alec tore off his jacket and hung it lazily onto the back of the steel stool. His frantic eyes searched around, narrowing on one young girl, seemingly in her early twenties. She stood off to the side, her calculating brown eyes scanned the overcrowded area, scrunching her nose in disgust. She was wearing a long white dress, quite unusual for this particular setting. Her thick wavy black hair was let down, falling softly at her waist.

 _So much for a hello,_ Jace thought. He brushed away the thought.

"So her name's Sophia huh?" Jace murmured. "By the Angel, she's hot."

"Shut up, Jace." Alec jabbed him in the ribs, roughly, causing Jace to cringe slightly. "Magnus, please tell him to shut his dirty ass mouth. I'm not wasting my precious time on him."

"Please do shut up my darling Jacey-poo," Magnus teased, speaking in a grandmotherly tone, complying to what Alec had asked him to do.

Jace glared sinisterly at the warlock and Alec snickered under his breath, but not intimidated when Jace's intense eyes meeting his. He was used to Jace's temper tantrums and prepared himself for yet another one.

 _He's worse than a teenage girl,_ Alec thought amused. He then suddenly stopped, thinking of how Isabelle would be nineteen if she was here.

"Don't call me Jacey-poo!" He yelled, throwing his hands up in the air exasperated. People stared at their table, some glaring, some annoyed, and even some amused.

"I must admit," Magnus continued shamelessly loud. "Maybe, I should call you my sweet pumpkin pie. No. Princess Jacelyn. Eh, maybe...Oh! I have the finest name for you, my dear! How about Jacey-kins?!"

At this, Alec snorted, earning him yet another death stare to which he shrugged off nonchalantly.

"Shut the hell up," Jace snaps, standing up and stretching. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Unlike you lazy ass idiots."

He strolled confidently over to the standing girl, checking her out as he went along. The white lacy dress hugged her curves, flowing out and stopping at her ankles.

 _Damn,_ Jace whistled as he neared her. He glanced at her wrists and stopped abruptly. Wrapped around her wrist was an intricate snake bracelet. _The Lightwood symbol,_ Jace thought, surprised. He wheeled back and returned to Magnus and Alec who stood stiffly in an uncomfortable silence.

"Yo," Jace whispered as he waved his hand enthusiastically. "That girl. She has a Lightwood whip."

At this, Alec narrowed his eyes shifted back immediately. He allowed his eyes to travel casually back to the young girl. Having both Magnus and Jace cover him, he grabbed his stele from his jean pockets and traced a Farsighted rune on his hand. The rune shimmered slightly and it's color began coming back. The black stood out on his hand and his eyes swiveled back to the girl. His eyes landed on the bracelet wrapped delicately around her wrists and his eyes widened a fraction.

"There's no way," he says finally, turning back to face Jace and Magnus. "There is no goddamn way. This girl probably picked it up from the weapons' room, not thinking."

"Well, she's coming to the institute tomorrow. Might as well ask her then," Magnus adds in lightly, the playful glint in his eyes gone. Alec buried his head in his arms.

"I just wanna fucking find her!" He said, his voice considerably louder than usual. The looks came back yet again, this time mostly glares from the mundanes.

"It's been ten goddamn years! I mean, she could be anywhere!" Alec says quieter this time, but the crack in his voice highly noticeable.

"Maybe we should leave," Magnus suggested. "Go back to my lair and get drunk there. Wake up in the morning with a frigging hungover and then we can mourn about how fucking dumb we were."

* * *

Simon was at his usual doughnut shop, Dazzling Donuts, waiting for Camille. He unconsciously drummed his fingers along the carefully carved tables and yawned. As soon as he did so, however, his fangs snapped out, and Simon immediately shut his mouth. He glanced around making sure no one was aware of what happened and when he was certain that nobody had seen anything, he let out a sigh of relief. Not that it really mattered, he could go on for days without breathing. He was dead after all.

What he, ironically, didn't notice was his best friend Clary sitting by a booth in the far corner hiding a stack of books. Clary, on the other hand, did. It had startled her slightly, but not enough. She was convinced that maybe it was just a trick of the light. Or the fact that he had pointy teeth.

Camille strolled through the doors and sat on the seat across from Simon's. Clary's breath caught in her throat. She was beautiful, Clary thought absently, envying the tall girl's curves and soft features. She was wearing a simple sheer gray T-shirt, yet provocative nonetheless. Her ripped jean shorts showed off her tan legs and her feet were adorned with beautiful fuck-me pumps. Clary watched from her booth as the two started to chat amiably.

"Simon." Camile had stated, and the two hit off, talking animatedly about comics and such.

Clary had to hate everything there was about that girl; her voice was silky, just like that brown hair of hers. She wished Simon would look at her the way he did at the girl. She glanced down at her own outfit, soon despising her choice of clothing; plain oversized plaid button-down shirt, a pair of paint splattered skinny jeans? Check. Dirty and beat down Converses? Check. She groaned and ran her long slender fingers through the rat nest that she called her hair.

The two walked out the doors together and Clary followed suit to their path. They went down a couple blocks before turning abruptly into a narrow alleyway. Clary followed them, slightly suspicious, yet curious all at once.

* * *

Simon felt something in his gut as he went out the doors of Dazzling Donuts with Camille. He didn't realize it was hunger and yearning for blood until he guided her into an alley.

"What're we doing here?" Camille questioned, looking uncertain, but expectantly at him. She gasped at a solitary thought that ran through her head, blushing ever so slightly.

Simon smirked at her, revealing his sharp teeth. Camille's eyes grew in shock and she recoiled further into the damp alley. Simon pushed her against a wall harshly, but it was an involuntary move. She shook in fear as he grasped his hands on her neck. Her head rose slowly, closing her eyes. Simon opened his mouth again, then closing it. He struggled to fight the hunger, but he knew it was a lost battle. Being a Daylighter was horrible. Simon bit Camille's neck, a flow of blood that quenched the vampire's hunger. He hungrily sucked on her neck, lost in bliss. Paradise.

Camille wasn't dead, but she was definitely drained. Simon stared at her now pale face, enraged at his actions.

He heard a muffled scream coming from behind him. He turned his head ninety degrees at the alleyway opening. Simon saw the shadow of a girl, about 5'3 (How he calculated this, he did not know. Being a Daylighter had its perks.). His eyes finally met her wide eyes. This mysterious girl had seen him bite Camille and now looked fearfully at her body against the wall in Simon's arms.

It was Clary, Simon realized. He heard a sharp intake of breath has her face morphed from confusion and shock to disgust and hatred. Her emerald eyes were filled with terror, her mouth frozen in a silent scream.

Not knowing what to do, Simon bolted silently thanking his inhumane speed, leaving Clary with the young woman. After coming out of shock and disgust, Clary quickly phoned a hardly used yet familiar number. She pressed the phone to her ear and she ran to check the body.

* * *

Clary stood in the shadows of the alley, making sure she was completely covered and unnoticeable. Her eye twitched as she thought of all the dirty things she would be watching. She caught sight of Simon pushing her against the wall, his mouth ready to attack hers.

What happened next changed Clary's opinion on Simon completely.

His sharp fangs attacked Camille, and Clary's eyes widened. This was most definitely not what she had expected. His sharp fangs sank into the young woman's and Clary's hand found the wall, leaning back for dear life. It was like everything had stopped moving.

She watched horrified as her best friend tore at Camille's throat, the girl now limp in her body. She tried to move, tried to free her hand to call the police, but her body didn't react. She was frozen. Terrified. Helpless.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and soon she was sobbing for this young maiden. How could it be, the sweetest of all girls always have sad endings? Tears streamed down from her face. She sniffled slightly, cautious to remain quiet.

He suddenly stopped, causing Clary's heart to drop.

 _He's coming for me_ , she thought.

* * *

Camille giddily walked alongside Simon. He was extremely attractive: his prominent jaw line stood sharp against his face, his hazel eyes sparkled and shone with joy, with his long eyelashes, Simon looked like an angel. His chocolate colored hair was tousled, allowing him to look like an innocent kid rolling out of bed. And Camille was mystified yet fascinated by him.

They were in deep conversation about chocolate and glazed doughnuts and how which on was better; Camille liked glazed, so she and Simon debated against each other's opinion. Simon shoved Camille playfully into an alleyway when no one was looking. She giggled, thinking Simon would be doing something she fantasized many times prior to this day.

"What're we doing here?" She had questioned innocently, hoping to seduce him.

Camille gasped in joy and shock when he pushed her up against the wall. _He's gonna kiss me ohmygodohmygodohmygod_ , Camille thought, her heart pulsing unsteadily. She was puny in his strong masculine arms. She felt his warm breath against her neck, his calloused hands rising from her waist to her neck, moving seductively. But instead of where Camille wanted his lips to meet her skin, his mouth expanded, showing the sharp set of teeth only for a vampire. The teeth approached her neck. She held her head up high, shutting the world out. Even though it was a monster, at least it was Simon. Camille let him take a river of blood from her.

As soon as the teeth left her tender skin, Camille felt light, she was floating. She fell into Simon's arms. The world was fading as she opened her eyes. The brick walls of the alleyway, the green dumpster next to them, the blue and cloudless sky escaped from her view.

The last thing she saw was the hazel eyes of Simon Lewis. His eyes seemed terrified and begged for forgiveness.

Her eyes then closed and she was unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3: Shifting Shadows

**Chapter 3: Shifting Shadows**

* * *

 **A/N: We're _soo_ sorry we haven't updated in so long. We wanted to make this chapter perfect for you all and we were really stressed. School, family troubles, illness, etc. all got in the way of editing and updating. We both went through some kind of hardship that really discouraged us from writing the third chapter. As you know, we're thankful for each and one of you for sticking with us. **

**Again, we wanna thank you all for being so patient with us and sticking with us! We truly appreciate each and every one of you!**

 **With love,**

 **E.S. Herondale**

* * *

Waiting for Luke proved to be a treacherous task for Clary. Especially because there was a half-dead body in her arms. Luke had responded almost immediately, notifying her that he sent a team of professional paramedics.

They still hadn't arrived after a while. The sight of Camille was making Clary's stomach queasy. The gash in her neck from where Simon had bitten her had turned to a sickly shade of purple and all evidence of bite marks had vanished. It was like a gory horror movie that made Clary cringe each time she watched one. Except now that it was actually happening, it didn't seem appealing anymore.

When the paramedics finally arrived, the stench of the dumpster had already polluted her lungs and felt like poison in her nostrils. She was definitely not returning to this location anytime in the near future.

"Ma'am, please back away and lay the girl down," one of the paramedics said. He sounded exasperated that she had interrupted his day. "We'll take it from here." Clary walked away, in a daze. She still didn't know what Simon did, but it surely wasn't something she thought was possible.

It looked like a vampire- wait no.

 _Vampires can't survive in the daylight_ , she thought irritably. _They aren't even REAL!_

But what could have possibly attacked Camille then? Yes, it was certainly Simon, but what was he really? She shook her head and started running down the street. The terrifying thoughts were invading her, causing her to scream in frustration. A nearby elderly lady looked at her in disgust and annoyance, shaking her head and muttering about millenniums.

She thought of going to her and Simon's apartment complex, but Clary didn't want to look at the place. Simon had things in there, and she didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Dazzling Donuts was an option it would certainly be crowded. Maybe the art studio, where she could paint- no, it was too late. Classes had ended about four hours ago and visiting/painting hours were over two hours ago. Clary punched the nearest thing in vexation, which happened to be a very solid brick wall. She winced at the pain and scowled when she realized that minor cuts were scattered all over her pale hand.

Finally, she made up her mind and stood up from the wooden bench she was seated on. She hurried home, as it was getting dark outside. _Might as well finish that drawing,_ Clary sighed and swung her chevron drawstring bag aver her shoulder. She sent a silent prayer to God, hoping that Simon wasn't home. Taking her usual route, she stopped at a red light. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the light to change.

As the light turned to vibrant green, she strolled across the street, and onto the sidewalk. As she continued walking, she had a strange feeling that she was being followed. It was one of those feelings that sent the hairs on her back straight.

 _The day keeps getting better,_ she thought, irritated. She figured she was going ballistic.

She turned around, expecting to see a disturbing figure following her. Instead, she saw a shadow, of a male. However, there was no one in sight. She narrowed her green eyes suspiciously, glancing around. When she was certain no one was following her, she turned and continued on her journey home.

 _I'm going crazy,_ was her only thought.

After a few more blocks, she had the same unexplainable feeling of someone tailing behind her. She turned around and had to refrain herself from screaming in frustration.

* * *

Simon had no clue where he was headed but it was definitely not to the home he shared with Clary.

 _She probably doesn't want to ever see me again,_ Simon thought bitterly. His feet pounded on the hard concrete ground, running at an inhumane speed. Stopping at the only place he could call home, he tentatively knocked on the door. To his disappointment, there was no answer. Instead, silence greeted him.

 _What the hell did you expect Lewis?_ He scolded himself mentally. _Raphael isn't gonna answer the door. It's frigging 5 o'clock and the sun's bright as hell_.

Unconsciously wiping at his lips, he realized that he had wiped away the leftover blood that had come from Camille. It sent his stomach into frenzies. He couldn't believe that he had bit his _date._ Maybe even his girlfriend.

He hated the fact that he couldn't control his hunger. The fact that Clary had to see him like that. Wild. Uncontrolled. He had always thought of Clary like a sister, in place of a lost sister.

He leaned on the brick wall of Raphael's house, shedding tears of sadness, anger, and loss.

* * *

Stepping out of Magnus's intoxicated lair, Jace inhaled the deep winter air, hoping it would clear the hangover. With the cold frosty winter weather, he shivered and clung to his thin jacket. The weather was quite warm yesterday and suddenly, the weather plunged. He glanced at the girls wearing thin shirts and shorts, wondering how they weren't cold.

Jace saw a blur of red hair streak past him. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at the same red-haired mundane.

Just then, he remembered the girl at the cafe. Somehow, he was mystified by her short tiny frame and fiery temper. Jace decided to follow the mundane. It had to be her. Jace did not think of the amount of red-haired mundanes in the world. Following his instincts, he turned around sharply, running after the girl.

The route the mundane took was full of sudden turns, weaving through crowds, and dashing through lines of cars. He had to hide every once a while, making sure the mundane didn't see him.

His silent footsteps trailed behind hers as they both crossed the street. Clary had paused, and Jace ducked behind a large plant, hoping it would provide enough coverage for him. He watched as the girl narrowed her eyes slightly and whirled around to begin walking again.

Jace let out a silent breath and cursed himself for being so careless. He quickly drew a glamour rune and applied it to himself. But he then remembered; this girl had seen his marks at the cafe. He shrugged it off.

Why not take the risk?

The next time Clary turned around, Jace wasn't worried. Or, he thought he wasn't. When she squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance, Jace was filled with wonder. Who was this girl? A _shadowhunter?_ Definitely not. Her body bared no marks whatsoever. But why did she shut her eyes when she looked at him?

She opened her eyes and scowled.

"What the hell do you want?" Clary glared but looked like she couldn't hurt a fly. Jace had to hide a smile.

"You can _see_ me?!" His voice was hoarse. Clary froze, her eyes against Jace's

"No shit," Clary deadpanned. "Am I not supposed to?" _She isn't a mundane, but she is_ , Jace thought incredulously.

"Oh," Jace decided to play along. "Right."

Clary narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but unsure what to do. The guy's tattoos had scared her and still do. However, there was something familiar about the one rune she had caught a glimpse of. Something she couldn't quite grasp. She shook her head, clearing all thoughts.

"Just don't goddamn follow me alright?" She snapped, hiding in her scarf. She wished she had on her heels but grimaced when she realized that her lace up boots did no help to her height. She stared menacingly at the boy. "Clear? Great"

She spun around and stalked towards her apartment building. Jace shook his head, a small smile daring to appear.

* * *

Sophia glared at the door of her new room at the New York institute.

 _Why the fuck do I have to come here_? She opened the door carefully, then throwing her bag of belongings against the wall, an impact much more severe than anyone would have thought a girl of Sophia's physique was its response.

She stomped into her new room, throwing herself onto the pre-made into the soft mattress, she let out a sigh of relief and bliss. She felt extremely tired after the flight from California to New York.

She had to admit, the room was definitely better than the previous one she shared in California. This room had bright pink walls and zebra print objects were everywhere.

 _It's almost like they can read my mind,_ Sophia thought.

She grabbed five dollars and walked down to find a vending machine. Sophia finally found a vending machine that sold energy drinks (it was actually quite hard to find one, the institute was commodious). She paid for one Red Bull, hoping that she could burn the calories before going to sleep.

She strolled down to the front doors to get some fresh air; she had stayed in her room longer than intended. Sophia sat down on the rocks near the river, but then saw someone familiar walk around the corner. She couldn't figure out why. She shrugged it off.

Sophia popped her energy drink open and started drinking it. Refreshing as always.

* * *

"Why, nice to see you, Jace," Hodge said pleasantly as he welcomed Jace into the cramped office. The office itself was quite large but Hodge had papers scattered on the ground, empty coffee cups lying everywhere and books stacked up on floors instead of being on bookshelves.

"Why am I here?" Jace says, cutting to the chase. He hated being around Hodge and his friendly demeanor.

"Jesus, Jace," Hodge says lightly, "Calm down. I'm not a murderer."

Jace let out a huff and crossed his arms. Tapping his feet, he noticed a tan file by the floor near him. Sophia Dubois. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jace watched Hodge, who was currently typing away at his computer. Bending down as if to retrieve something from his backpack, Jace quietly shoved the file into his backpack and took out his phone, casually, hoping that Hodge hadn't noticed. He then proceeded to scroll through his social media.

Hodge cleared his throat and Jace's head snapped up.

"Yes?" Jace inquired.

"After careful consideration," Hodge began. "Maryse and I believe that you are the fittest for this position. We are assigning you to bring to us a young girl by the name of Clarissa Adele Fray. It is mandatory she is brought unharmed. Do you believe you are able to do so?"

 _Holy shit,_ the gears inside Jace's head began turning, millions of questions threatened to spill out of Jace's mouth.

"Yes sir," Jace replied simply. "I believe I can do so."

"Alright," Hodge gave a small smile. "I shall hand you her file and it would be wise to scan over the information."

Pulling a thick tan folder from the sleek black cabinets, he handed the folder and ushered Jace out.

* * *

Alec left Magnus's lair, slightly disappointed that Magnus was still not awake. He headed down to the institute, hoping to find that girl with the Lightwood whip at the bar last night.

He stopped along the river. Alec sat down on the rocks, his palms dangling from his knees, his eyes staring longingly at the shimmering water.

"Isabelle," Alec muttered involuntarily. "Where are you, sister?" It had been so many years, but now he possibly had a lead.

 _How many Lightwoods_ _are there left in this world_? Alec knew there was a high chance that there weren't many Lightwood families out there. Besides, that girl's name wasn't even Isabelle; Sophia, he thought.

 _You gotta start thinking straight,_ Alec thought to himself as he brought a bottle of water to his chapped lips.

Alec was so deeply immersed in his thoughts he didn't realize Sophia sitting beside him the whole time. She quietly drank her energy drink, taking advantage of him oblivious of her to get a better look at him. Sophia still couldn't piece together why he seemed familiar.

His head snapped and looked at Sophia. _Holy shit_ , Alec thought, his heart pounding. _It's her_.

"Hey," the girl said casually. She put a lock of her black hair behind her ear. Alec felt a tug in his gut, some sense of familiarity, but didn't recognize anything unnatural. He felt at ease sitting beside her and oddly enjoyed her presence.

"Hey," he responded shortly and returned his gaze to the river. "How are you enjoying this place?" Alec had nothing else to say to the new girl. _Really_? _That's the best thing you could have said_?

"They place is damn fine," Sophia laughed, her voice like wind chimes. Soft, high, and lovely to hear. "The people here, though? Way too classy and professional. It's so annoying."

Alec gave a short amused laugh and ruffled his hair.

"Trust me," he informed her. "You haven't met anything yet. The institute is more than a couple of shitty people. Wait till you meet Jace."

"Jace?" Sophia smirks, taking a swig from her drink. "Hot name. Is he hot in general?"

At this, Alec couldn't resist a laugh.

 _Maybe she wasn't so bad after all,_ Alec thought.

Camille wasn't exactly sure where she was. No memories came to mind as she anxiously scanned her surroundings. What had happened? Why did it hurt each time she moved her neck?

A blank white wall greeted her as she swung out of the rough mattress. A sharp pain shot up her neck and she winced, her hands instinctively touching the tender area.

"Awake?" A voice from the door echoed through the room. A silhouette of a person entered with it.

Straining her neck, she turned around slowly, and to her relief, she saw Luke. He was tossing a bottle with dark liquid back and forth, leaning against the door frame.

"Luke!" Camille exclaimed, dropping her usual attitude. "Thank god you're here. Can you please explain what happened? I'm legit about -"

Her statement was cut off, she found herself growling and her eyes fixated on the bottle in Luke's hands. Luke handed it to her and stood by. She hungrily gulped down the blood, yearning for more. She couldn't stop, the force was far too great. The burning sensation brought a sense of euphoria to Camille. It was like that moment with Simon; utter happiness.

She found herself thinking, _Was this how Simon felt when he-?_

Draining the bottle, she realized Luke's gaze was still on her. Camille stopped thinking about the joy in feasting on blood. She removed the bottle from her blood red lips and turned to him. Camille sheepishly smiled at him, her lips wet with the warm, red liquid she never thought she would ever drink.

"What. The. Hell." Camille whispered hoarsely, her smile disappearing, realization kicking in "A-am I a-"

"Judging from this, yes, you are a vampire, my dear Camille." Camille paled, using her somewhat clean hands to wipe the stain of blood off her mouth. Luke's face still stayed neutral.

"No," She said, shaking her head. "No, no, no!"

"Camille," Luke stated gently. He placed a reassuring and warm hand on her shoulder. It felt hot against her now-cold skin. "You must accept this reality. _You are a vampire_." The last words had rooted deep into Camille's brain, sprouting a tree of thoughts.

"I'm a human," she said hollowly. "I'm not a freaking monster, I'm a very, one hundred percent, human. I am a being that doesn't need to survive on others blood." She reassured herself many more times, Luke not giving any trace of impatience as he watched her close her eyes, open them again, close them, open, close, open. Arms folded, unfold, fold, unfold. "I am a _human_ ," she finally said.

Luke did not speak, but soon noticing that Camille had stopped, he spoke.

"If you insist, we'll see how you do without any blood." The work _blood_ triggered something inside her. Luke raised his eyebrows so high, they could have been part of his hair. Camille stared blankly back at him, although Luke saw something else in her eyes; yearning.

"So you see what I mean, Camille?"

No, she did not, but nonetheless, "Yes, I do."

"Good," Luke stated simply. "Just know that you're a vampire, it' _not_ a great idea to be in sunlight. Maybe you should stay inside."

"They whole day?!" Camille said in disbelief.

"Yep," Luke said. "I'll be in the kitchen if you'll ever need me. And don't worry Camille, you're one of us." He closed the door lightly.

Camille decided to change out of her blood-stained clothing and slipped into a pit of soft slippers. She walked over to the closet and glanced at the clothing in approval. They were mostly her style, short and revealing. Picking a navy lace crop top with a plunging neckline, she glanced at herself in the long mirror. She had changed into a pair of high-waisted jean shorts that were frayed at the bottom. On her feet were diamonds studded sandals. Her skin had become exceedingly pale, instead of the golden creamy color it used to be. He black hair stood out, and she pulled out a hairbrush and brushed it simply, leaving it down.

 _Perfect,_ she thought. Picking up her phone, she glanced at the screen and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

All thoughts of being a vampire disappeared from her thoughts.

* * *

Walking back into her apartment, she let out a relief at the emptiness. She was thankful for the emptiness. Throwing her chevron bag onto the floor, she went into her room and changed into a pair of sleep shorts and black tank top.

With the more comfortable clothing, she went back to finish her sketch. Maybe she might have some more inspiration now. The pencil moved without her conscience and began sketching.

Her hands moved freely and Clary wasn't sure what she was drawing exactly. Shading in various spots, she glanced at her drawing. What she saw was truly peculiar.

It was a young girl holding an oddly shaped wand and a distorted demon. The girl was quite beautiful with dark hair and mysterious tattoos on her arms. The tattoos were similar to the ones Jace bore when he followed her home. The looks of the girl somehow made Clary envying them. She had beautiful locks, a slim figure, and nice facial features.

 _This,_ Clary thought. _Is why I'm always lonely on Valentine's Day._

She shook her head and returned to drawing. Filling in the positive spaces, she sighed and began going over what happened.

She had _definitely_ seen Simon biting Camille. Her heart was still in denial, but her brain knew. Was this monster what Clary was crushing on? Maybe even...in _love_ with? No, it couldn't be. She had been so disgusted with Simon. Terrified of what he would do.

But what was that feeling in her chest whenever she thought of him? His chocolate colored hair, ruffled from the lack of brushing. His warm hazel eyes, calming her after every nightmare, after every thunderstorm.

And then there was Jace. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her heart beat faster, her head a little clearer. His cocky manner made Clary want to talk to him more. Want to know him more. It made her want to break that shell. To peer inside at what he truly felt.

When did it all become so difficult?

* * *

Sophia was surprised that there was one person that wasn't a complete asshole.

"The name's Sophia," she said.

"Alec." He flashed her a polite smile, which gave her a twinge of brotherness. She frowned involuntarily, and Alec's mind whirled. _Did I say something wrong?_ He thought. "Something wrong?"

"No, it's just that your name sounds familiar, like I've known you before."

Alec cocked his head to the side, thinking about that. "You look familiar, too."

"Well, that won't stop me from making friends," Sophia suddenly threw her hands up and laughed. Her laughter was contagious and warm, it seemed when Alec joined in. It was like being with a sister; fun, familiar, easygoing. _Sister_. The word was weird to think about. Like a bitter taste in his tongue. Could Sophia be her? No, plenty of people could look like her. The odds of her actually being his sister were low. Especially after so long.

"You look constipated," said Sophia, breaking the tension awkwardly. Alec snapped his head at her yet again. His eyebrows were furrowed together. "You seriously do. If you need to go do your business, I'll wait."

Alec snorted. She was blunt. A feisty one.

"Oh, it's nothing," Alec replied. "It's just that I thought I knew you."

"Huh." Sophia took a long sip from her energy drink, though didn't seem at all energetic. Her eyes fluttered shut, opening every once a while, drinking in the world through her large brown eyes. "Still doesn't explain what I heard earlier. Or maybe a little," she added.

"What?"

"When you said 'Isabelle, where are you, sister?'"

"Oh. That. Well, it's a long story-"

"I got time, do I not?" Sophia tapped her foot impatiently. The clack of her heels made a loud noise as it hit the rocks by the river.

"Okay, fine," said Alec. "Let's start from the beginning…

'I once had a sister named Isabelle, yes? Yes. She had black hair, like you. Brown eyes too. She was a Lightwood and -"

"No shit," Sophia remarked sarcastically. "What else would she be? A Chen? A Johnson?"

"So one day, in the winter," Alec continued, ignoring her sarcasm. "We were separated during the Great War. We were all hiding in the cellar under the institute and Isabelle got bored. I don't know why I didn't stop her or anything but she slipped out and said she was going exploring. Long story short. She was captured by Valentine's men."

"How do you know she ain't dead?" Sophia takes another swig of her drink.

"Because they said so," Alec stated distantly. "The Silent Brothers said she wasn't dead."

"So, I look like a long-lost sister," Sophia summed up. "And now you're suspicious."

"Not particularly," Alec shrugged. "So what's your story?"

"Basically," Sophia waved her hands grandly. "They found me on the steps of the institute and saw my runes. Obviously, they took me in and they couldn't wait 'till I turned eighteen to get rid of me."

"Well then," Alec stated. "Quite a story you got there. Let's go back shall we?"

"You sound retarded," Sophia wrinkled her nose in disgust and stood up.

Alec couldn't help himself to another snort.


	4. Chapter 4: Futuristic Friendships

**Hey lovelies!**

 **It's me, S. Herondale and I just wanna apologize for the late update. My grandfather died recently and I was extra busy with school and everything. I hope you can understand! We love and appreciate all of you guys! Here's chapter 4 for those who actually read these! I hope you all enjoyed this. (PLEASE FAVORITE, REVIEW, AND FOLLOW!) Thank you againnn!**

 **Btw, Chapter 5 is gonna be...very angsty and plot-twisty!**

 **Hugs and Kisses,**

 **E.S. Herondale**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Futuristic Friendships**

* * *

Camille laid down on the completely white bed, careful not to get any stains on it. Luke had been kind enough to shelter her for as long as she needed. She closed her carefully eyes, exhausted at the day's events. Her mind was still clouded with thoughts and fatigue had taken over her body.

She heard a quiet knock on her door. Camille sat up, smoothed her shirt and called, "Come in."

Luke quietly slipped into her room, handing her a glass cup with thick red liquid.

"What is this?" Camille asked, slightly hungered by the smell. However, she felt disgusted at herself for feeling this way.

"It's a blood smoothie I ordered from Taki's," Luke stated nonchalantly.

Pausing temporarily, she accepted the drink and chugged it down. The rich taste of fresh blood awakened Camille's senses. The exploding flavors of ripe fruit tasted heavenly, quenching her thirst.

"Thank you, Luke," Camille said, briefing closing her eyes.

"It's fine," Luke replied, sitting down on a chair by her bed. "I feel like...maybe you and I need to talk about the...event that occurred today."

"Thank god!" Camille responded, laughing slightly. "I've been waiting for someone to explain all of this."

"So obviously, as you can tell, all the legends are true. Vampires, Faeries, Werewolves. They're all real," Luke began.

"So.." Camille inquired. "What are you?"

"A werewolf," Luke replied bitterly. "Without a happy ending that is."

"What happened?" Camille inquired, clutching the now empty glass.

"That's a story for another time," Luke waved off. "How are you coping with these new fangs?"

"Not so great," Camille sighed. The fangs were exceedingly uncomfortable, poking at her skin at sudden times. Chapstick did no help to her chapped lips, causing Camille to lick her lips ever so often. "When can we go out? I feel so dead."

"You should be," Luke said, suddenly stiff. "Which reminds me. Do you want to accompany me on my trip to the lab? We could get you tested and all that."

"Yes!" Camille said a little too enthusiastically. The white wallpaper fed her boredom and the clean pearly sheets made Camille groan.

"Get ready," Luke stood up from the chair and began walking out. "We're leaving in 30."

* * *

 _Ring. Ring. Ring._

The sound of her phone was obnoxious, causing Clary to jump up from her sleep. Rubbing her eyes groggily, she checks the time.

5:45. She swung her feet out of bed, flinching as her foot came in contact with the hard wooden floor. Searching for her bunny slippers, she groaned. Her first class was scheduled for 7:30 and she definitely had no interests in returning to her usual coffee shop.

She stepped into the small walk-in closet, grimacing at the piles of clothing scattered on the ground. Carelessly, she grabbed for the two nearest pieces of clothing she could find. A maroon side slit T-shirt and an old pair of skinny jeans that were faded.

 _It'll have to do,_ Clary quickly dressed herself and walked out her room. Her clothes from the previous night laid scattered on the ground in her room, and she cringed at the eye bags beneath her eyes.

Swiftly, she brushed her teeth and applied on her usual makeup. Mascara, foundation, etc.

Still sleep deprived, she made herself a cup of coffee and sat down on the kitchen table, going over last night's events.

* * *

"I'm Jace," Jace stated monotonously as he stuck his hand out for Sophia to shake. "Jace Lightwood."

Sophia's eyes' bugged out. She hoped that this guy didn't see it. Was this who Alec was referring to? Because Sophia had to try her hardest not to drool. The first thought that had crossed her was, _He looks like he belongs in California!_

His face seemed to glow like gold; his blonde hair mesmerized Sophia. His golden eyes sparkled along with his hair.

But she didn't know why, but this Jace guy seemed a little bit _too_ good. Like an angel. Too good to be true.

* * *

"So this the front entrance and you must have either a work card or a visitor card," Luke said as he led Camille through the clear doors of the Laboratory.

Camille glanced around, fascinated at the size and cleanness of the lab. Every piece of metal was sparkling and was all polished as if it had just been cleaned. People in white uniform bustled around, carrying tubes of unidentifiable liquids and test objects.

Sparkling chandeliers hung on high ceilings, twinkling in the light. Camille's eyes flew all over the place, from the doors to her left, to the windows on her right. It was a breathtaking view and Camille couldn't bear to tear her eyes away from the painted skies.

Luke gave her a small tap on her shoulder and ushered her down the tiled halls. She noticed people giving curious glances, staring for a few seconds, most likely wondering what she was doing here. Camille wasn't so sure herself. What exactly was she anyways? She felt cheated, broken, and confused. How could Simon do this to her? The question jumbled her mind, like a missing jigsaw puzzle.

Soon enough, the two Downworlders stopped in front of a plain white door and gave a light knock. Almost immediately, the door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman wearing a lab coat greeted them.

"Luke!" She squealed, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him. Luke gave a slight chuckle and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hello to you too Amatis," Luke said as tugged herself away from him. "I brought with me, Camille."

He gestured to the awkward young girl standing by the door frame. She gave a timid wave and offered a smile to the scientist.

Amatis returned the smile and ushered the two into a small private lab.

"How are you, my dear?" Amatis asked as she returned to the chart sitting on a marble table.

"I'm fine," Camille replied, not sure what else to say. She silently thanked Luke as he began talking.

"I was wondering if Camille could get a blood test, Amatis," said Luke, suddenly businesslike. "Camille has been bitten by the Daylighter Simon Lewis, and she is now, from what I have concluded, a vampire."

Amatis raised his eyebrows. "What kind of information are you interested in gathering?"

"Her type," Luke answered immediately. "Classification. Since you know, she was bitten by a daylighter."

"Oh course!" Amatis's cheerful attitude was getting quite bothersome for Camille. However, Luke was completely at bliss. "Camille, dear, would you mind sitting in the chair next to my desk?" She pointed at a plush mahogany chair that was beside the table.

As Amatis hustled around, gathering her supplies, Camille surveyed her desk. It was exceptionally organized, with pencils all in one cup holder and pens in another. Stacks of stapled paper sat neatly in a pile in the middle of the desk, with a stapler as a paperweight. There was intricate stationery paper located at the very edge of the desk.

When Amatis returned to her chair, Camille flitted her eyes, not wanting to seem as if she was snooping around. She gave a quick glance at Luke, who was leanings a cabinet, lost in thought. Returning her gaze to Amatis, Camille carefully studied her features while the older woman was gathering her supplies.

Amatis was quite beautiful, with glossy black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her dark complexion brought out her light hazel eyes, and her full red lips completed the look. Her sharp cheekbones were highlighted with light makeup.

"Alright," Amatis cleared her throat. "This will sting a little."

Slowly and with caution, Amatis inserted the sharp needle into Camille's upper arm.

* * *

Jace was having one big wicked hangover. The pounding of his head was intolerable, and Jace laid in bed, wondering what happened last night. Everything seemed a tad foggy and mysterious. Slowly, sleep took over him, and Jace snuggled under his covers.

 _Bright, illuminating lights. Loud music blaring through speakers. People grinding on one another. Deafening laughter and chatter. All the commotion was really getting on Jace's nerves. Grabbing a plastic red cup from the countertop, Jace made his way outside of the mansion and took a seat on the porch steps._

 _Taking a sip of his drink, he winced as the bitter taste of alcohol entered his mouth._

Spiked, _was the only thing Jace could think off. He stared at the neatly trimmed grass that surrounded the family mansion and was suddenly homesick. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the glass doors creak open and close._

" _So," a feminine voice shook him out of his thoughts. "You huh?"_

 _He turned around ready to turn the next slut down, but he wasn't prepared to see the feisty redhead from earlier. His stare lingered on her as he drank her in. Her long red hair was curled, falling at her waist and her green eyes sparkling was mischief. She was wearing minimal makeup, unneeded mascara that brought out her eyes, the blush giving her pale skin a pink flourish and clear lip gloss rubbed on her lips._

 _Jace was oddly at a loss for words. He watched as Clary threw her head back and laughed._

Damn, she was hot, _Jace was mesmerized by her. His eyes continued traveling downwards, meeting a sparkling gold halter top and a short flowy red skirt with a gold belt. Her feet were covered in black pumps, or, in boy language, please-fuck-me heels._

" _What are you doing here?" Was the only thing Jace could think of._

" _Can I not go to a party?" Clary replied, looking at her drink and wrinkling her nose._

" _Just asking," Jace answered. "That's alcohol. Try some."_

 _Clary tentatively placed her mouth to the rim of the cup and took a sip. Jace watched as Clary's face contorted into different expressions as she downed the cup._

" _Your face," Jace bursted out laughing. "Is so red."_

" _Shut up," Clary huffed, crossing her hands. "Shut up you moron."_

 _Jace calmed down subtly, though the mere thought her blushing face sent him into another fit of giggles, which earned him a playful glare from Clary._

" _So.." Clary continued. "Shouldn't you be inside? Most likely fucking another slut."_

" _Too fake for me," Jace stated casually, as he and Clary laughed._

 _Maybe it was so bad after all._

 _"Are you sure?" Clary raised her plucked eyebrows. "They look quite fuckable tonight."_

 _"Clary!" Jace gave a mock gasp. "Why didn't you tell me you were gay?! I could've set you up!"_

 _"That's not-" Clary protested, shaking her head vigorously._ _ **(A/N: Nothing against the LGBT community. I apologize right now if it offends anyone.)**_ "I know Helen, Aline, Isabelle," Jace began listing names of girls he had one nightstands with. "Kaelie? Seelie? I mean, I wouldn't know why anyone would refuse you, you're fucking hot as hell." He glanced amusedly as Clary's face turned bright red, and he had to refrain from laughing.

" _Come on," Clary stood up and motioned for Jace to do the same. "I'm hungry, let's go raid their fridge."_

 _Jace answered, by taking her hand and together, they walked back into the house, as if they had known each other for their whole lives._

* * *

Raphael was definitely not in a cheerful mood. The loud sound of some obnoxious idiot banging on his front door had awoken him from his essential nap and he was more than irritated. He slipped his feet into his slippers and stomped to his front door, banging doors and knocking over small items. Opening his front door, he was ready to scream and preferably eat the person at his door.

"Simon?" Raphael was certainly surprised, yet still pissed, as he rubbed his eyes groggily. "What the fuck do yo-" But he cut himself off as he took in Simon's appearance.

He didn't look so well. His hazel eyes were covered were red, as if he had been recently crying. His nose was runny and red. His usual upbeat demeanor was diminished to the presence of a disowned dog. Simon wouldn't meet Raphael's eyes, holding back what seemed like the 'daylight' in 'Daylighter.'

"Simon?" Raphael questioned tentatively. "Are you alright?" It seemed foolish to ask such a mediocre question to such a complex mess of a vampire.

"Can we talk inside?" Simon walked into the house sluggishly, without waiting for an answer. Raphael tailed closely behind into the kitchen to brew some coffee for both of them.

"Simon?" Raphael nudged Simon, watching him sit lifelessly on the couch. No movement. "Aren't you here to tell me about something? Or is it something else? Not taking enough blood? Vampire issues?"

Simon continued to stare at the dark, depressing color of Raphael's coffee table, not speaking. Just staring soundlessly.

Raphael took a seat next to Simon and fiddled with his hands. He stayed put waiting for the Daylighter to begin his speech. Raphael almost didn't catch the hoarse, quivering voice of Simon Lewis, the vampire whom he had brought to "life."

"Do you know what it feels like to lose a friend?" This was a strange question for this particular Daylighter to ask. "Have you ever been hurt by a mundane?"

Raphael stared at Simon's face, which was still unwilling to look back at his.

"I don't usually spend my time surrounding myself with these stupid mundanes. I have better things to do," replied Raphael. "But to answer you question, yes."

Raphael paused, considering something. "Is it that mundane girl you had a thing for?" He observed that Simon subtly nodded his head.

"Yeah," Simon said, sighing. "It's about her."

"Something happened?" Raphael raised an eyebrow. There was no way. Simon was always extremely cautious about what came out of his mouth and he was exceptionally polite. That was why most people preferred Simon over Raphael.

"You could say that," was Simon's curt response.

"Explain."

Simon audibly took a big breath. "Well," he began. "I had a date with this one particular girl. Mundane. We both went to Dazzling Donuts, bu-"

"Bro," Raphael interrupted. "You took a girl to Dazzling Donuts? Are you dumb ( **A/N: SEE WHAT I DID THERE...no? Okay I'll stop.)** First of all, Dazzling Donuts is the dumbest, cringiest place on Earth. All that cholesterol in those doughnuts. And that sugar. Those goddamned doughnuts are so artificial that even the freaking sugar is fake. Second, you are cheap as hell. Girls like fancy shit. Shoulda took her to a mall or some fancy ass restaurant."

Simon cracked a small tight-lipped smile and continued his anecdote.

"As we were leaving, I had this strange feeling in my gut. So-"

"Shit you dumbass," Raphael ran a hand through his dark curly hair. "You should've ran like you were on fire, you idiot. It's a sign of hunger. God, did you ever listen to me?"

"Yes, I realize that. And uh, no not really. Those Playboy magazines were much more intriguing. Anyways. As we were walking down the street, the feeling of hunger, well. It kinda took over me and, uh…" Simon trailed off. Raphael eyed him, telling him to continue with his eyes. "I pushed her into an alleyway and bit her on the neck. I don't know why I couldn't resist."

"You've technically broken the Accords, but fuck that," Raphael added.

"I haven't finished," Simon said, with a twinge of annoyance. "I got caught. That's the reason why I'm here. By-"

"-Clarissa Fray," finished Raphael. "That short ass girl with freaking hair like the Little Mermaid. Or..your best friend. Who is a mundane. And who you had a thing for. You fucked up, my dear."

Simon nodded, hanging his head as he sat up.

Raphael didn't know what to do. He awkwardly patted Simon's back. "Just go and explain it all."

"You don't understand!" Raphael was slightly shaken at Simon's reaction. It was surprising for someone like Simon could get mad over one friend, but not any other matter. "She's not going to forgive me! I've known her for like forever. She was looking at me with this burning _hatred_ and this distaste. There's no way. She's probably going to run."

"Ask Magnus," Raphael was getting fed up with Simon's petty attitude. "Maybe he'll help."

"Raphael," Simon shook his head slowly, and a small grin appeared. "You are a fucking genius bro."

It was raining heavily when Simon left Raphael's comfy brick house. Puddles covered the sidewalks like large misshapen ovals on a sheet of paper; spread out everywhere, and blocking everything. The rain ruthlessly poured down, pelting him as he sprinted down the lonely streets. Thunder struck all around, and brilliant flashes in the sky every so often. In only a few moments did he arrive at his destination.

Soaking wet, Simon glanced at the tall building filled with disco lights and bright neon colors all over the place. He shook his head, rain droplets splashing everywhere, almost like a wet dog. He stepped through the double French doors and glanced around in awe. Every object in the room was covered in a layer of glitter, and a magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, shimmering and sparkling as lights bounced off of the hanging crystals.

Cursing himself for wasting such time, Simon hurried up the grand staircases and only stopped when he reached the set of doors leading to the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He took a deep breath and gave a timid knock on the door.

* * *

"Simon," Clary said numbly as she called Simon's number for the seventh time. Fed up, she resorted to leaving a voice message. "This is obviously Clary. Um, uh, I was wondering if you would like to meet me at our usual place during my break to, uuhhh, go over some earth-shattering events that occurred. Umm, please call my back Simon."

Shivering slightly, she dropped her iPhone back into the pockets of her Hollister coat and she resumed her walk to the Academy of Art. She was definitely not ready for class, despite it being only the second day. She definitely wasn't interested in some lousy College Algebra Course II or some shitty Real World class. Even the thought of being able to paint freely did not amuse her, or spark any positive feelings.

The only thing running through her mind was the fact that Simon hadn't returned home. Sure, he was a gruesome, nasty, unnerving, creature, but deep down, he was Clary's best friend. The guy who was there when Sebastian dumped her. When she landed a role in the high school play. When she got her wisdom tooth taken out and was on painkillers for a month. When he woke up at 2 AM to buy her foods because she was craving Ben & Jerry's.

She took a deep breath, trying to settle the jumbled mess that had clogged her brain and annoying her to no end. It was almost worse than a fucking migraine. Trudging her way up the steps to the Academy, she wiped her boots at the worn rug in the lobby and swiped her pass through the scanner. Walking through the doors, she smiled at Imogen, the security officer who sat at the front desk.

"Hello Clary," Imogen gave her a smile. "How are you today?"

"Fine," Clary replied, leaning over the desk. "You?"

"Wonderful," Imogen responded. "Where's Simon? He's usually always with you."

At this question, Clary faltered, stumbling slightly. "Oh, h-he's not really, umm…., feeling so well today."

"Oh," Imogen's smile dropped a bit. "Well, I won't keep you from going to class now, will I?"

She gave a small shoo and Clary chuckled as she went on to the lockers.


End file.
